Molly Weasley had never expected, after delivering seven children, to then deliver an eighth. Although, notably, this time she had coached the young lady rather than giving birth herself.
The young lady in question was one she had never expected to become a young mother, she knew Hermione Granger was incredibly bright and very sensible. She also had not expected it of her youngest son either, but boys were boys and with six sons one of them was bound to forget their contraceptive charm no matter how she and Arthur had drummed it into them.
It was sudden, unexpected and she was almost saddened she had not had the chance to fully prepare. Remus must have known when he saw the trio at Shell Cottage months earlier. But then, she thought to herself, hoe the large jumper belonging to Ron had momentarily concealed Hermione's growing belly when the three kids had finally arrived in the safety of the castle once more. Although that safety was very short lived.
Upon realising with shock that Hermione was indeed pregnant, and the following realisation that she must have become so at the hands of Ron, she had every intention to give her son a proper talking to. That instance had never come as the army of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself had appeared to end every feeling of control that Molly still had over her children.
She had noticed the occasional glance of pain upon the face of the young girl as well as glances of reassurance from Ron but it was not until a great bought of pain during the battle itself had led to Hermione crying out, and, as Molly understood it, begging for help to be found.
By the time Molly, her daughter at her side had reached the cluttered corridor where Hermione sat, her knees bent and legs slightly apart, back against a crumbling wall.
She had insisted her worried son let them. Pointing and telling him to get back to Harry as she and Ginny had helped a heavy-breathing Hermione to her feet.
It had been quick after that, from heavy panting and sighing to groaning and wincing in pain, the labour progressed fast and relentless. Molly had herself had a very fast Labour with Ginny, her being the last of Molly's children, but even then, Ginny's birth had been over three hours, the longest being over two days.
Hermione wasn't going to receive any respite; the contractions had come thick and fast and she had tried her very best to walk until the need to push began to overtake her within less than an hour.
Molly's thoughts had turned to her son, to the father of this little one. Good grief, Ron was a father – he was barely eighteen years old.
Hermione, now once again crouched in a hallway, was shaking her head and tears rolled pitifully down her cheeks. Ginny, the only person Molly had in any way of assistance, was gripping the hand of her friend and glancing with wide saucer-sized eyes at her mother in horror.
Molly knew they didn't have long, Hermione looked pale, tired and in a lot of pain, more pain that Molly would have expected. Something wasn't right, she could feel it.
"Ginny, I don't think we are getting much further," Molly muttered glancing at the continuation of the corridor which was all but gone. The castle was falling apart around them. Molly wasn't sure moving from the site would be at all possible. She didn't want to risk apparating, and besides, Ginny was underage – not that it really mattered now.
"I need you to have a scout around, see if there is anyone who can help us – the school nurse perhaps – anyone who might know how to help."
Ginny instantly nodded, gave Hermione's hand one last squeeze and dashed off down the corridor away from them, dodging crumbling rock. As she went Molly saw the occasional flash from her daughter's wand. She felt sick to her stomach, something wasn't right, something to do with one of her children. She just knew it.
As soon as Molly had watched her youngest disappear from view she drew her own wand and performed Accio, bringing some clean linen from wherever was closest. A pile of sheets and towels arrived at her feet. 'Accio' and then a pair of sharp kitchen scissors appeared, ' Accio' once more and a ball of string rolled neatly into the collection.
It was the best they could do in the circumstances. Molly, in the middle of thinking how best to get Hermione at least into the safety of a classroom, was interrupted.
"Mrs Weasley, I, I think something's happening, I need."
With that Hermione winced, her hands gripping at the fabric of her jumper and she hunched forwards.
"Call me Molly, Hermione, I think we're past 'Mrs Weasley' you're family now."
With a brief apology for the lack of dignity, Molly began to help Hermione from her Jeans, quickly covering her lower body with a towel.
By the time Molly had instructed the young mother-to-be to lay her knees to the side with her legs parted, she heard the sound of steps rushing towards them. Instinctively Molly drew her want, sending 'Lumos Maxima' into the air. The corridor illuminated, shining up to reveal that Ginny was dashing towards them. Molly's heart sank when she saw a large cut on the side of her little girl's face but almost instantly it lightened at the sight of Minerva McGonagall at Ginny's side.
"Minerva," Molly greeted, preparing to give more information but the Professor cut in before she could speak.
Coming into the light it was clear Minerva had also been victim to the attacks and thrown her fair share of counter-attacks. She took had a few cuts and her clothes were dishevelled, her bun full of flyaways where her hair also escaped.
"Now then Miss Granger," the professor instantly sat at the side of her student and took Hermione's hand in her own.
"As much as I feel I should be reprimanding you for pure irresponsibility, I know that now is not the time. Now let's see what he can do to get this baby born."
The professor nodded once at Molly, a nod that Molly returned. The two women sharing something in that look, a look of 'I care about this girl, we need to do the best we can to help her.'
"Hermione, love, I think you're almost there-."
Molly's words caught in her throat. She was gently probing below the towel and there was no doubt about it, she could feel the top of the baby's head.
She glanced back at Minerva, then Ginny, before Hermione caught on that something was wrong.
"What is it? Molly? Professor?"
Molly shook her head, drawing her hand back into view as to reassure Hermione before glancing it. Her hand was sodden and red. Hermione was bleeding heavily.
Molly could almost feel her adrenaline levels rise. She glanced at Ginny, contemplating sending her daughter to find the baby's Father, but if she did she would lose a pair of hands. They needed to get this child out, the blood could mean something was wrong; very wrong.
"Hermione." Molly could hear the firm tone in her voice so she was sure Hermione must also have heard it.
"Something's wrong," Hermione sighed, her eyes closed tight.
Again Molly and the Professor shared glances. Hermione seemed too quiet, too relaxed or dare they say sleepy.
Molly wasn't exactly sure why there was so much blood, nor why Hermione seemed only to be awake due to pain but she did know if something was wrong they had to get this baby born. They would lose enough lives tonight without an extra tally to the count.
Molly felt herself becoming focused, knew she had to get this done, she had, in her hands, the life of the only person ever to love her son as much as she herself did, and she was not about to let anything happen to the person likely to become third on the list.
Luckily for all involved, Hermione was able to listen, to comply with the very much needed pushes. Her first brought baby from crowning to the birth of its head, another longer and harder push with Hermione gritting her teeth and groaning in a deep gutteral way there was a splashing sound and Molly had to lurch forward to grab the sodden, slippery baby.
She held her breath for what felt like forever, waiting, before a loud unmistakable newborn wail filled the castle.
Molly lifted the baby into the crook of her arm, wrapping him up in a towel tightly with her spare hand.
Glancing up at Hermione she saw the girl had tears running down her flushed cheeks.
"Is it ok?" She gasped, reaching instinctively to take her baby.
At this Ginny jumped to her feet, Molly stared and Ginny had quickly returned a shrug,
"I need to find the new Dad, he has to meet the baby."
With a sprinters start she took off once more down the long corridor, Molly watching her until she was out of sight.
It wasn't until Ginny had gone that she realised she was smiling, grinning to the extent it should have hurt. She reached over the top of Hermione, handing her the very special little one as carefully as she could. Hermione's eyes continued to flood with tears as her tiny baby took hold of its mother's finger.
"You have a little boy Hermione," Molly announced.
"Aaron," Hermione said, not taking her eyes off the tiny bundle.
"His name is Aaron Ronald Weasley."
Molly felt herself staring almost as much as the new mother. She knew Hermione was still bleeding, knew the placenta had to be born and the cord clamped and cut. Molly knew they sat in the middle of a castle being torn apart by the Dark Lord but in that time, and she was sure Hermione would have agreed, everything stood still. All that mattered was that she had a Grandson, a beautiful - if small - baby boy.